Reading and writing and the preservation of language and its forms and the kind of eloquence and the kind of beauty which the language is capable of is terribly important to the human beings because this is connected to thought.
IRIS MURDOCHPerhaps when distant people on other planets pick up some wavelength of ours all they hear is a continuous scream.
More Iris Murdoch Quotes
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We can only learn to love by loving.
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Time, like the sea, unties all knots.
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I took a deep breath, however, and followed my rule of never speaking frankly to women in moments of emotion. No good ever comes of this.
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Anything that consoles is fake.
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I don’t think I can marry, I’m not fit for it, I’m not real enough. That’s the trouble. I’m a puppet that’s realised what’s wrong with itself and it’s horrible. I’m propped up somewhere all alone, watching the real people go past. I’m propped up crying in a corner.
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Every artist is an unhappy lover. And unhappy lovers want to tell their story.
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But one must do something about the past. It doesn’t just cease to be. It goes on existing and affecting the present, and in new and different ways, as if in some other dimension it too were growing.
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In philosophy if you aren’t moving at a snail’s pace you aren’t moving at all.
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Perhaps when distant people on other planets pick up some wavelength of ours all they hear is a continuous scream.
IRIS MURDOCH -
Love is the Extremely difficult realization that something other than oneself is real.
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One should go easy on smashing other people’s lies. Better to concentrate on one’s own.
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Coffee, unless it is very good and made by somebody else, is pretty intolerable at any time.
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As we live our precarious lives on the brink of the void, constantly coming closer to a state of nonbeing, we are all too often aware of our fragitlity.
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Only take someone’s hand in a certain way, even look into their eyes in a certain way, and the world is changed forever.
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The absolute yearning of one human body for another particular body and its indifference to substitutes is one of life’s major mysteries.
IRIS MURDOCH